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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652531">where I want you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostardentlyalive/pseuds/mostardentlyalive'>mostardentlyalive</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Forehead Kisses, Fucking Numpties, Hurt/Comfort, It gets a bit sad, M/M, POV Simon Snow, Sharing a Bed, Simon is sad, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Watford Seventh Year, also this is the first fic i've shared so be nice, and also worried, baz is also sad, but isn't always, i don't like this title but here we are, it's about the Yearning kids, which means they're perfect for one another</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostardentlyalive/pseuds/mostardentlyalive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>baz and simon got together just before they ended their seventh year at Watford. simon is excited (and a bit nervous) to see baz once they return for their last year, but gets concerned that maybe baz won't show at all (spoilers: he doesn't, and i bet you can guess why)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m worried he’s going to act like nothing happened between the two of us. Make me think I’m crazy. Actually, I think I am more worried that nothing did happen. I imagined all of it, and Baz will finally stop caring about Anathema and sucker punch me in the face when I try to kiss him. </p><p>I said as much before we left in the spring. We had been doing...whatever you want to call it, for a month or so. We had two weeks before the end of term and we were lying in our beds, facing one another. Neither Baz nor I are particularly small, so we eventually started pushing our two beds together in the middle of the room when we got tired of trying to fit all of us in one of our tiny beds. </p><p>We were holding hands in between our faces, I was intently staring at Baz’s while tracing his life lines and whatever the rest of them are called, avoiding his eyes. I didn’t want to say anything, but it was going to eat away at me if I didn’t. I wasn’t quite used to him not mocking me every other sentence. I still probably won’t be used to it, I suppose. Course, he still mocked me plenty; but in the last few weeks especially it lacked the venom it seemed to carry before. </p><p>“Don’t -” I started. Stopped. Didn’t really want to finish asking. I could feel Baz’s eyes on me, trying to be patient. He was so so patient with me last spring. Christ, I miss him. </p><p>“Don’t come back and act like this didn’t happen, like… like it was nothing, or anything like that,” I whispered. Barely audibly. If Baz hadn’t responded soon after, I may have thought I hadn’t said it at all. </p><p>Baz curled his fingers around mine. “Simon -” </p><p>I closed my eyes. Simon. I love when he calls me that. It isn’t often. But every time he does, my chest feels like it’s about ready to burst. It feels a bit like I’m about to go off, but without any of the danger of all that. It’s a different kind of heat. Less of a burn and more of a glow. It hurts, but not in the same way; hurts in the very best of ways. </p><p>“Simon,” Baz says again, tugging on my hand a bit, urging me to look at him. I meet his eyes and they’re grey and intense and steady and sure. “‘This’ is everything.”</p><p>There it was again, the glowing feeling. It bubbled in my chest, it hurt but also didn’t hurt, and I didn’t know what to do with it or where to put it, so I leaned forward and kissed him. I kissed him and kissed him and kissed him (Baz is a very good kisser). I kissed him all over his face until my lips were sore, up and down his nose, his cheeks, his eyebrows. I wrapped my hands in his hair (I love Baz’s hair) and gently kissed his widow’s peak. </p><p>I buried my face into his shoulder and inhaled his scent or cedar and bergamot that I knew so well by that point. I desperately didn’t want the year to be over. Granted, I am never ready to leave Watford at the end of the school year (Christ, this year is going to kick me in the arse, isn’t it?), but this was different. Baz was perhaps always the one thing I couldn’t get away from soon enough. Last spring he was the thing I was anticipating I would miss the most (even more than the sour cherry scones) (which is saying something).</p><p>I was right. Every summer, I wouldn’t let myself even think about Watford or anything or anyone here. But I thought of Baz almost every day. But I made it. Somehow. Though Baz doesn’t normally arrive until the day before the term starts, I’ll be back at Watford, back in our room, tonight. Christ, I can’t wait to see him again. And also to eat a sour cherry scone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>term starts tomorrow, and baz STILL hasn't come back. simon is Worried and reminisces some more.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m sitting on Baz’s bed, wearing one of his old Watford football jumpers, and getting more and more concerned as the hours go by. The term starts tomorrow for Christ’s sake. Living with someone for seven years (and snogging them for a few months) allows you to really get to know them, and Baz would never miss a class. He may be the only person here who loves Watford as much as I do. </p>
<p>Penny left my room ages ago; she told me to stop fretting and to go to bed. She would have stuck around to say hello to Baz when he (probably. hopefully) arrives, but she still feels a bit off about it, I think. </p>
<p>She knows about me and him of course. I probably would have told her eventually, but she figured it out almost straight away. I was heading to the library to spend time with Baz while he was working on a huge assignment. He told me he’d be in there all night, so if I wanted to see him at all that day, it would have to be there. Being as averse to going to the library as I am, Penny saw me and cornered me in the corridor until I cracked.</p>
<p>Baz and Penny have much more alike than I think either of them would be comfortable with. Sometimes it’s more than I’m comfortable with, to be frank. </p>
<p>I had missed Penny too. Almost as much as I had missed Baz. Or maybe it was about the same. I’m used to missing Penny, is the thing. The missing Baz was new (Was it new though? I’m not even sure myself.) </p>
<p>When Penny came by earlier, I was of course happy to see her. Glad to see she was in one piece. Glad to see she was here at all, really. Based on the very dramatic exit she and her mum made at the end of last year, I would not be surprised to find out she almost wasn’t allowed to come back. (Or maybe I would be. Not coming back to Watford would be ridiculous.)</p>
<p>I hadn’t seen her since everything that had happened with the Humdrum in Lancashire. We (miraculously) made it back to the school, Penny’s mum swept her away, and they were gone; I hadn’t managed to find a way to check in with her after that. The Mage took me up to his office and asked me everything he could think to ask about what we had seen and what had happened. He didn’t seem to care much about how we got back safely, but I could tell he was glad I was okay (At least, I think he was).</p>
<p>I was in his office until really late at night, he had food brought up so we could stay as long as we needed to. I can’t even remember what exactly we talked about. I had never been more exhausted in my life, I smelled like smoke (more than I normally do), felt disgusting, and just really wanted a shower. And Baz. I wanted to see Baz. </p>
<p>It was about four in the morning by the time I finally got back to our room. I was in such a daze that I wasn’t quite sure how I got back. I had expected Baz to be asleep, but he wasn’t. He appeared to be cleaning and packing, actually. Of course. It was the end of the term, he would have to be heading home for the summer in 8 hours or so, and it looked like he had barely started packing. </p>
<p>Baz is a very meticulous person. Everything of his has its exact place and it rarely strays from it. When he would pack for the end of term, he typically had a very exact method of fitting everything into his posh trunks with his family’s crest engraved on the outside. That was not the case when I had come back to Baz packing that morning. </p>
<p>It was chaos. His clothes were all over the floor, his desk, his wardrobe. Drawers were thrown open, things were haphazardly thrown into his trunk that was lying open in the middle of the floor. Baz wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but I heard rummaging in the bathroom.</p>
<p>I tried to call out to him, but my voice wouldn’t work. It does that sometimes. Probably part of the reason why I am just awful at magic. I swallowed.</p>
<p>“Baz?” It came out softly, but he heard. The rummaging stopped, and Baz poked his head out the bathroom door. </p>
<p>“Simon!” He rushed towards me, his arms held out wide, but he stopped just in front of me. Hesitant to touch me just yet. He ran his eyes up and down, making sure I wasn’t hurt or bleeding in any way. Baz would never bite me; he’d never hurt me at all. But he also isn’t one to throw caution to the wind. Seeing that I was okay (physically, at least), he took another step towards me and reached for my hand.</p>
<p>“Simon?” he said again, softer this time. He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb against the back of it. </p>
<p>“We—” I started, but nothing else came out. I took a shaky breath and tried again.</p>
<p>Nothing again. I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know, I wanted to get the image of the Humdrum with my stupid face out of my mind, and maybe saying it out loud would do that, but my fucking mouth wouldn’t let me. </p>
<p>I could feel my magic starting to boil up, could feel the heat rising in the room. Baz, rather than stepping back or yelling at me to calm down (like the Mage does pretty much every time), took my other hand in his and tugged slightly on them, reminding me that he was here. </p>
<p>“Simon,” he said again, this time a bit cautiously. I don’t think he had ever called me by my first name that many times in a row. I thought about that often this past summer. </p>
<p>I looked up to meet his gorgeous, intense eyes. They were full of concern (Baz thinks he’s so cool and deceptive all the time, but if you pay attention, his eyes give him away every time). </p>
<p>I wanted to tell him everything. He should know. But maybe that could wait for a few hours. I leaned forward a bit and pressed my face into his chest. His arms came around me and held on tight and his head rested on top of mine. He pressed a kiss on top of my head.</p>
<p>He still was concerned, he still really wanted an explanation, I could tell. I think he was even a bit frustrated. I think he knew, however, that that explanation wasn’t coming any time soon. Baz knows, I think, that sometimes all he can do for me is hold me like he did that morning. I love him for that.</p>
<p>Baz really is the first person who I’ve been able to do anything like this with. Sure, Agatha and I dated for a long time, but she isn’t the most touchy-feely person in the world. Whenever she and I held hands, it felt more like an obligation. She was my girlfriend, and that meant I held her hand, and kissed her when we said hello and goodbye, and would put my arm around her when we were sitting next to each other. I did all those things because that’s what everyone else told me I should do. I don’t think that I ever really felt the need or the want to hold her close, though. Not like this. </p>
<p>Even with Penny, who has been the most consistent person in my life; she’s really the only family I have. I love her to death, but I would really only give her a hug under very specific circumstances. We just don’t have that kind of relationship, which is fine. It really is fine like that, with everyone else. I don’t need physical affection from everyone to know that they care about me. </p>
<p>But things were different with Baz right from the start. Not just with kissing (even though I love kissing Baz) (He’s a very good kisser) (Seriously). When things started with us, and even before that, to be perfectly honest, I felt the need to run my fingers in his hair, to hold his hand whenever I got the chance, to rest my head on his shoulder when I sat next to him. It’s nice. Comforting. Solid. I like to feel him in front of me, to know that he’s really there and to hold actual proof of it in my hands. It makes me feel secure. I had never had that with anyone (and I don’t think he had either, really), and I don’t think I knew how much I was missing that in my life until I had to leave him for three months. </p>
<p>That morning, Baz and I eventually wound up facing each other on Baz’s bed. We would have moved the beds together like we usually did, but we would just have to move them back in a few hours. I whispered bits and pieces of the story to him. Not everything, but enough for him to get the gist. The whole time, he was holding my hand, or playing with my hair, or running his hand up and down my arm, always listening attentively. We slept for a few hours like that, my hand in his, somewhat peacefully before having to wake up to the utter chaos of the world.</p>
<p>We woke up when the sun rose a few hours later. Baz took a look at the disaster he created last night and shook his head.</p>
<p>“Guess I was really worried about you,” he said with a slight chuckle. I gave a meager grin in response. He kissed my forehead, got out of bed and got to work on packing everything up.</p>
<p>His aunt Fiona came to get him about midday. I would be leaving a bit later; the Mage would call a cab to take me to the train station to get me to the care home for the summer. It hit me as I watched Baz check his drawers and cabinets (for the eighth time) to make sure he got everything that this would be the last home I would be going to. Next year I’d be on my own. I couldn’t help but wonder where we would be a year from then. What would his family make him do to me? What would the Mage try and get me to do to him?</p>
<p>I chose not to think about it. And chose instead to help Baz look for his Watford football jumper that he was missing (He never found it. I had packed it in my bag). </p>
<p>Baz’s aunt came up and helped him carry out most of his stuff. She grabbed the last bag, and clomped down the stairs in her odd boots. What an odd woman in general. I don’t think she even looked at me or acknowledged my presence the whole time she was in here. </p>
<p>Baz went to his backpack sitting by the door and put it on. I was leaning against the window between our beds, trying not to think too hard about anything at the moment. He came over to me, brought my hands to his mouth and kissed them. </p>
<p>“I’ll see you in the fall, yeah?”</p>
<p>I nodded. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his aunt was gone, and leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together, cupping my face in his hands. There it was again, that glowing feeling in my chest. It hurt. I didn’t want him to go. My hands were shaking, I didn’t know what to do with them, so I found Baz’s elbows and hung on tight.</p>
<p>He grinned and pressed a kiss to my forehead. </p>
<p>“I’ll miss you.”</p>
<p>I wanted so badly to say something in return, but again, I found I couldn’t. Instead, I squeezed his elbows even harder. He understood and leaned down to kiss me for real. </p>
<p>“Goodbye, Simon,” Baz said with a final peck on the mole on my cheek (which seems to be a favorite of his). With that, he walked to the door. Before he closed it, he smiled at me in a way that made me want to grab him, throw my arms around him, and never let him leave this room ever again. Then it shut, and I was alone in the tower.</p>
<p>And that was the last I saw Baz. I have been replaying this scene in my head over and over in my head to help me stay sane this summer. The home wasn’t any worse than they usually are, but somehow, having known what it’s like to have someone I care about fall asleep in my arms, I was more miserable than usual. I still am. I don’t know where he is. If Baz chose not to come back to Watford without somehow letting me know, I will gladly fight him when the time comes (okay, not really. But I will be pissed). That would be worse than him coming back and pretending like nothing happened between us (though that would drive me mad as well). </p>
<p>I need to stop this. He’s probably fine, like Penny said. But I can’t shake the feeling that something bad happened to him. What if something happened to his family? Or someone discovered he’s a vampire? Or worse, if the Humdrum got to him? </p>
<p>I lay down on Baz’s bed and rub the heels of my hands into my eyes so I’m seeing stars. Try to relax, like Penny said. I hope he’s here when I wake up. </p>
<p>I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thanks for reading! this chapter wound up being waaayy longer than i thought it would be because some thoughts and feelings came up while writing and here we are. you're lovely, go be kind to people.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in baz's absence, simon visits the catacombs</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been three weeks. And when you think about it, three weeks is really not that long. It isn’t. I keep telling myself that to make myself feel better and to stop freaking out all the time. It hasn’t been working very well.</p><p>For three weeks, I have felt a bit like I’m about to go off all the time. That heat that sits right behind my eyes and in my chest and my stomach has been there constantly; Penny says that I smell like a campfire more than I usually do. I don’t think there’s ever been anything in my life that has made me this worried and made me feel this useless.</p><p>I’ve tried to get answers from my teachers, but they all can’t tell me anything at all, of course. I should have known that. I’ve tried to bring up Baz’s disappearance with the Mage but he brushed me off and told me that there were more important things to worry about at the moment. </p><p>I don’t think he’s right. I know the Humdrum and the fate of the World of Mages and everything is going on, but I don’t think I care, really. I’ve always been so useless when it comes to all… that as well. I just sit and wait and do whatever the Mage or Penny or someone else who knows more than I do tells me to do, and then I sit and wait some more. </p><p>But in this situation, there is no one who knows more than me. Except maybe Baz’s family, but I can’t talk to them. Though we never outright talked about it, I know Baz hadn’t told his family about us. Which is fine, really. But I desperately want to know if they know anything. </p><p>Though I know there aren’t any answers there, I decide to head to the catacombs tonight. I’ve been a few times since the term started, and have done a thorough search for anything that could tell me what happened to Baz. Or even Baz himself. I came up empty.</p><p>And even though the place gives me the creeps, it reminds me of Baz. It has his presence, I guess. As I approach the entrance to the catacombs, I remind myself that I’ve been down there numerous times and nothing has ever happened. The only ones who really have something to be afraid of in there are the rats. (The rat population must be going crazy without Baz here to manage them). The cool, musty air brushes my hair back as I open the heavy door and step inside.</p><p>Baz and I came here together a few times last year. I mentioned to him that I found it somewhat scary. He laughed.</p><p>“You? Who fought the fucking chimera without batting an eyelash?”</p><p>I lightly smacked his shoulder as we descended the stairs into the catacombs. “That is not true, the chimera was well terrifying.”</p><p>“Well, I certainly wasn’t able to tell. I didn’t think you got all that scared much, Snow.”</p><p>I shrugged. Baz stopped walking and I paused a few steps ahead of him and looked back. He cocked his head and asked me, “So why do you keep coming with me when I ask?”</p><p>I shrugged again and kept walking. He caught up and caught my hand.</p><p>“Snow?” He wanted an answer.</p><p>I shrugged again, but complied. “I guess… I guess things aren’t so scary when you’re with me.”</p><p>I surprised myself with that confession. It was true, the more I thought about it. Even before that year, even before we got together. Even though I had thought I hated his guts, and even when I did I suppose, in most perilous situations, I knew things would be okay if Baz was there. He had always offered a sense of stability and comfort similar to Penny. I just hadn’t ever said it out loud, and hadn’t planned on telling him. </p><p>I kept walking down the corridor that night, and Baz caught up with me, this time catching my hand and holding it in his as we searched for some more rats for him and he showed me different odds and ends he had found during his many hours down here.</p><p>That night, after we got back to our room, I was getting ready for bed and he was getting ready to take a shower. As I was settling down, he sat on the edge of my bed and grabbed my hand and held it on his lap, staring quite intently at it.</p><p>“Things are less scary when you’re with me, too.” </p><p>I leaned forward and held his face in my hands and kissed him. </p><p>As I walk through the corridor tonight, though, I’m alone. Not only am I creeped out beyond belief, I’m hit with a new wave of missing Baz. I miss him and I miss him and I miss him and I want him here with me. I want to know he’s okay, and I want to help him if he needs it, but also... </p><p>Also, in a more selfish way, my last year at Watford is too scary a thing to think about, and it would be less scary to deal with if he were here with me. </p><p>I run back to our room in the tower and sleep (fitfully) in Baz’s bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading!! i love simon so, sorry to make him so sad on his birthday, but here we are.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i was making myself sad thinking about how simon would have acted had he discovered his feelings for baz before baz went missing, and i needed an outlet for it and wound up with this. this is the first fic i've shared; be kind please. thanks for reading, you're lovely.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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